


Peter's Glasses

by TheCrazyGeek



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Erotica, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1962456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrazyGeek/pseuds/TheCrazyGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Note: Don't read if you are offended by real-person fiction. This is a short one-shot Peter/You piece)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peter's Glasses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RandallsRedTie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandallsRedTie/gifts).



He waits for you. Perfect and polite.

 You get home and he’s there with a cup of tea and a few jokes to wind down with. People do get some of him right - you’ve loved the way his body generates more than enough heat to keep you both warm, the way he can wrap his long limbs completely around you and just hold you there.

You smile at this, because there are things only you know.

The way he can switch from kind, charming, loveable Peter to the purring, teasing and energetic Peter in private. Only you see what he can do with those hands when he’s not acting or drawing with them, only you know that there is a place on his neck that if you bite it’ll make him flip you over right there and then.

In fairness, he knows a lot about you as well, things he’ll never mention to anyone, nor even hint at in interviews. The fact that his famous ‘stern’ glare as Malcolm Tucker or Doctor Who can make you go positively weak at the knees, or that his native Glaswegian accent turns you on like hell.

And then, there’s his eyes.

He acts with them. The whole world has seen them roll through a myriad of expressions and never lose their spark (unless of course the scene called for it). People in multiple countries know what colour they are and how they crinkle at the edges in such an endearing way.

You see a rarer view. You’ve seen them less than an inch from your face. You’ve seen them look up from…other places, and you’ve seen them framed by those glasses. *Those* glasses. The ones you said were totally unfair because he only has to put them on and your thoughts turn to lust.

You recall he laughed at that and deliberately put them on around the house even when he didn’t need to for several weeks. You got your own back eventually, didn’t take long, just needed a purchase of some classic black stockings.

Tonight he’s sat in the armchair, reading a book with a cup of tea next to him and those glasses on. He catches your gaze and grins - raising an eyebrow in silent questioning.

He never did finish that cup of tea.


End file.
